


Dial D For Denial - Parts 1 & 2

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, Series: Dial D For Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-15
Updated: 1999-12-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:12:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An in-progress series of stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blair has a new job, and it triggers dark fascination within the Sentinels soul.  
> Archived on 12/15/99

## Dial D For Denial Part One.

by Fire Frog

Author's webpage: <http://www.wn.com.au/firefrog/senwarn.htm>

Author's notes: Thank you to Kelly, beta reader fantasticus, and a nice person to know. Especially when you have one neuron left, only half a story, and the beginings of 'Fairy Light Madness' is creeping up on you. Thanks Kelly.

* * *

Dial D For Denial. 

By Fire Frog. 

"Hey Jim, congratulate me man! I just got a new job! Naomi is as good as aboard that cruise ship!" Blair bounced into the loft, keys sailing for a touchdown in the basket, backpack - ignoring house rule nine - was dropped by the door. 

/Great, what's boy genius got himself into this time?/ Blair had been all plans since he found a list his mom had written when she was twenty. It listed all the things she wanted to do with her life. She had apparently done all but one of them, a world tour on a cruise ship, and Blair desperately wanted to give her that. "Spill it, what hard worked oppressors of the masses was willing to put you on, Sandburg?" 

"Dreamtime Inc, I'm gonna be a telephone pleasure enhancer!" 

Jim frowned. Blair had that look, the one that said, please don't listen too closely to what I just said, just nod encouragingly. The Look, in short, that spelt Trouble. He quickly interpreted telephone pleasure enhancer via his internal Sandburg lexicon. 

"You're going to be a phone sex operator?!" He stared incredulously at his friend, who was now hopping from foot to foot, smile melting from his face. "No! No way Sandburg! Not a hope in hell! Not going to happen. Nixnay on the exsnay. No partner of mine..." 

* * *

"Oh yeah, oh god...oh yeah, so hot..so...yaargh!" Blair shrieked and slapped a hand over the mouth of the phone. "<Jim, cut that out, you want me to lose my job? I'm with a customer here. You're real mature man. Not.>" 

Jim grinned as Blair struggled to get the ice cube he'd dropped down the neck of his top out before it melted. 

Blair was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, schoolwork spread out around him. He had two pencils tucked behind one ear; glasses perched on the end of his nose, and was dressed in a colorless sweat suit with holes at the knees and ink stains on the sleeves. 

/How can he look so cute?/ 

"Hey," The detective smirked aloud, "from your lips to God's ears buddy." 

"<Shut up Jim...>" Blair took his hand off the telephones mouthpiece and spoke into the receiver. "Uh, hello? You still there?" 

"Hi, yeah - was that your boy friend? You were arguing with your boyfriend! He sounds like a big mean bastard. I bet he's gonna want a make-up fuck. I bet he's huge. He's gonna drag you over to the bed, rip off those tight shorts you told me about and fuck your ass raw. Oh yeah.... Oh Yeah! <there was a loud grunt followed by rapid panting> God, <pant>. That was intense. I'll be phoning 'you' back sugar. Bye now <click>." 

Blair sat, the special red, 'business only' mobile phone still pressed to his ear, feeling Jim's eyes boring holes through the back of his head. His face was hot with embarrassment. Jim just 'had' to have listened in to that. 

"How long will this go on?" The voice was chilly, far colder than the ice cube had been. 

"Just a couple of months." Blair lowered the phone slowly, resting it on a copybook. 

"I'm going to Simon's for a beer. Don't wait up." The tall man snatched up his jacket and stalked out the loft, leaving an unhappy guide behind him. 

* * *

"We get a new script every week, so we don't get boring - and the dedicated phone, of course. Apart from that we make it up on our own." 

Simon just looked at him over the rim of his coffee cup. Jim had told him about Sandburg's new job last night. Had told him at length, in fact. Now he wanted to hear from someone not experiencing an impotency melt down. Jim Ellison, unable to control 'his' Blair, was not a pretty sight. Time to pass the vibe on. 

"On your own?" 

Blair gulped. There was a world of innuendo in those three words. He suddenly felt like an eight-year-old, declaring he was off to discover the Americas, and could he borrow his dad's hat? It was vitally important the Simon both listened to him and not laugh at what he said. 

Blair considered himself lucky that Jim had only shared his knowledge with Simon. Not that he was ashamed about his new job. Nope. It was just that he got enough stick as 'Hairboy' as it was. No way he could face the bullpen if they knew his new professional name was 'The Lovely Long Haired Biker.' His persona was a tall, slim, multi pierced motorbike rider who like to get personal with his tool kit in open fields. He was also a red head, Blair had always wanted red hair, and..oh, um, Simon was 'looking' at him. 

"Yeah, the uh, hot talk and some um, sucking noises." /Ok, shouldn't have added that last bit./ Blair squirmed as Simon covered his eyes and held up a hand for silence. 

"Stop, I think I know more than enough. This will only last until you have enough money for your mothers boat cruise, right?" 

<nod>

"And it will take, how long did you say?" 

"Well it was going to be for a couple of months, but I've already picked up a pretty big clientele, so Marsha thinks if I keep working every day I could reach my goal by the end of 'this' month." 

"Marsha runs this...business?" 

"Yeah." Gee man, can you make it sound 'more' sleazy? 

<sigh> "Ok Blair, I'm not happy with this, but it's not illegal and I know how important your mom is to you. So long as it doesn't interfere with police work, I can't see any objections from this end. I just wish you could have found another way." 

"With my time schedule? Simon, trust me, I looked. The only other jobs available where I could make that kind of money, with the time flexibility I need, were in creative chemistry or hidden horticulture. Or required I get a lot closer to my clientele, if you know what I mean." 

"Sandburg, don't go there, not even in jest." Simon surprised himself at the anger in his voice. Ok, so he was feeling bad that the kid had to do this to make the money. Especially when with all the work he did around here, he should have been easily able to treat his mom, if only he had been paid for it. He rubbed wearily at his eyes, feeling the weight of one more pressure on his shoulders. 

"Blair, this sort of thing, it seems easy, but there are hidden traps. If you feel like it's getting to much for you, just pull out. I think Naomi would rather miss her boat trip, than to have anything happen to you. Now get out of here so Jim can come in and ask if I managed to talk you out of it. Go, shoo." He gestured at the door. 

"Thank you Simon." Blair did that little aborted movement he did when he wanted to give someone a hug, then scurried out the door. 

/How can he be so cute?/ 

"Did you manage to dissuade him sir?" 

Jim's sharp blue eyes looked at him from the doorway. Silently calling on the ancient and mysterious powers of the coffee god, Simon took a sip of his cooled beverage and gestured his best detective in. Telling him to shut the door behind him, he prepared to start the battle. 

"I didn't even try. In fact I wished him well. Blair has a right to get another job." 

"Simon! I don't believe you! What...what if he's picked up by vice?" 

"Dreamtime is a legitimate business Jim. Sandburg has every right working for them." 

"Except he'll end up in trouble, you know it, I know it. How could you be so irresponsible as to encourage the kid to..." 

"Oh blow it out your hat Jim. There's no reason why he shouldn't do this, except that it makes you and me uncomfortable. If Sandburg doesn't have a problem with it, neither should we." 

"But his standing in the department..." 

"Is unofficial, and binds him to no conduct protocol. Anyway, this is no worse than those calendar shots Ronda did to help pay for her wedding." 

"I think there is a difference. Sir." 

"Let him do this, Jim. He's a grown man, so are you. You'll handle this. You hear me? You handle this." 

* * *

/Yeah, right./ Jim Ellison squirmed in his seat, jeans gone tight and uncomfortable. /I'll handle this./ Besides him in the cab of the truck, Blair was taking his sixth caller for the night. They weren't officially on a stake out for another half hour. So Blair was blocking out questions on his lap top, red phone tucked under his chin and moaning sensuously as he reprised the 'monkey wrench' script he'd gotten that morning. To start with he'd been a little restrained with this one, but by the time his lunchtime clients were through he had relaxed and was really getting into it. 

Jim was finding the performance distracting. Almost to the point of driving the younger man home. But the more Blair 'worked' the sooner he stopped. He was contemplating what that meant to him personally when it hit him. The Need. 

Ellison glanced at his partner. Blair was focused on the screen, he'd put down the phone and was scratching an itch on his head using the end of a pencil. 

"Just going to check the perimeter Chief, keep the door locked, don't let anyone in." 

"Yeah yeah. Ok." Blair waved his pencil at him to show he'd heard and went back to scratching. Jim got out, taking care to lock the door of the truck behind him. 

Going around to the other side of the building Ellison slipped two items from inside his jacket. One his mobile phone, the other a Dictaphone with only two things recorded on it. 'Talk to me' and 'more.' They had been rendered with a voice synthesizer. 

With a racing heart, Jim dialed the number, pushing play on the recorder as the call was picked up at the other end. 

"Talk to me." As Blair went smoothly into his performance Jim undid his fly and let his aching cock out of its confines. Leaning back against the wall he let the hypnotic voice lead him further into arousal, not bothering to fist himself, just listening till he exploded, then gently hit disconnect. 

* * *

Back at the truck he found his partner frowning at the mobile in disgust. Reaching over Jim took the phone and spoke in his best 'listen, punk' voice into the receiver. 

"I am giving you one chance and one only, you call this number again and there will be a trace on it. I'll find you, and when I get you.." there was a click as the line went dead and Jim handed it back to his partner. "Chihuahua man again?" 

"Yeah. Sorry about that. Guess I'd better turn it off. You find anything on your walk?" 

"All's quiet." 

* * *

Jim Ellison had had one shitty day. A day spent coddling criminals and other scum of the earth. For once he'd been glad Sandburg wasn't there, he'd had a hard enough time controlling his temper without going into big brother mode when the bastards leered at his friend. Undressing him with their eyes. And they did. It scared Jim to think he had joined their ranks. 

As he got to the door of the Loft he automatically upped his hearing. Inside he heard Sandburg talking, it sounded like he had another pervert again. He unlocked the door. 

"The bible...uhuh...you want me to put it where?...uhuh...Yikes!" Jim snatched the phone and snarled into the mouthpiece. 

"I don't know who you are scumbag, but phone this number again and there won't be enough of you left to fill a milk bottle." He slammed the phone down. The loft's phone, part of his mind noticed. 

Blair just stared silently up him a moment, mouth a perfect 'o'. 

"Jim, have you gone crazy? That was Mrs Barramar on the phone! She was telling me where to drop off her Great Grandfathers old bible that she lent me! What did.." the phone began to ring again and Blair pounced on it. 

"Mrs Barramar! Yeah, that was Jim...yeah, he didn't know what he was saying. Accidental drug inhalation at work, I'm staying home to make sure he doesn't hurt himself...uhuh...I'm fine...sure will...Ok, thanks, bye Mrs Barramar." <click> "I hope you're ashamed of yourself man, she was really worried about you." Blair wavered briefly between annoyance and amusement. The humor won out and he fell sideways on the couch, laughing his ass off. 

"Glad you think this is funny." Feeling like a fool Jim stalked over to the TV and picked up the remote. Damn kid. Unable to help himself Ellison felt the corners of his mouth twitch up. Blair's laughter was infectious. And thinking about it, it had been kinda funny. Collapsing into his chair, Jim clicked on the TV and relaxed. Only one more week and Blair's weird new job would be finished. /Let's hope things get back to normal. As weird as that is, sometimes.../ 

* * *

He had it again. The Need. To call and hear his partners voice. As had become his ritual this past month Jim slipped from the office and out to the truck. He'd parked it as usual in the darkest part of the underground car park. With shaking fingers he fumbled out a condom and rolled it down the length of his hardening penis. Then he pulled out the mobile and Dictaphone, hit playback and speed dial together. His cock was bobbing in anticipation. 

"Hellow, Blair Sandburg, can I help you?" 

"Talk to me." 

There was silence, small eternities ticked by before Blair replied, voice gone flat and strained. 

"Who is this? How did you get this number?" 

Too late a horrified Jim Ellison realized he'd dialed Blair's office number, and not the sex line. He hit disconnect, but not before registering the increased heart rate and breathing of his partner. 

He had scared his friend, badly. Groaning in shame and remorse the cop removed the condom from his now flaccid cock, zipped himself up, then rested his head on the steering wheel. Oh god. What had he done? 

As he sat there in the dark, a memory surfaced, from early in his career with vice. There had been a telephone company that had discovered one of it's employees had been terrifying a woman with obscene phone calls. It had been going on for years, but when ever she contacted them, their records had shown nothing, the company man had erased them. It was only the testifying of the woman's family, who had also some times picked up the calls, which had eventually convinced the head of department to monitor the situation. The employee had been found out. When they finally booked him and asked why he did it his answer had been simple. 

"The power. I could put the fear of god into her and she never even knew my name. The more frightened she became, the more power I had. It was like a drug, I couldn't stop." 

/Power. Power over him. I want power over him, always have./ 

Jim Ellison sat in a cold truck in the middle of the Cascade Police garage and asked himself.../Did I dial that number on purpose?/ 

And the terrifying truth was - he didn't know. 

End of Part One. To be continued.....


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who broke into the office of Dreamtime Inc and stole Blairs file? When the Guide finds out what his Sentinels been up to, sparks fly!  
> Archived on 12/15/99

## Dial D Foe Denial, Part Two.

by Fire Frog

Author's webpage: <http://www.wn.com.au/firefrog/senwarn.htm>

Author's notes: Thank you Kelly for being a great and understanding beta reader. Beware Fairy Lights. They are sparkly and beguiling.

* * *

Dial D For Denial Part Two. 

By Fire Frog. 

With a sense of relief Blair handed over the red mobile phone and the file of weekly scripts. He signed the docket and pocketed his last pay check from Dreamtime Inc. Marsha had tried to talk him into staying longer, but he had set his goal, reached his target and felt the phone sex business just wasn't for him. Especially after that one telephone call to his office. That had freaked him out. It had been a very strange day all round. 

* * *

He'd gone home that day feeling nervous and edgy, to a loft that had entered the twilight zone. His favorite relaxation CD had been playing, there were scented candles on the table and the added aroma of braised tongue with cabbage parcels reached out to greet him. Jim had proven elusive on why he had gone to all that trouble for him. (Had some one from the collage called Jim about the phone call? Nah, Blair thought not, Jim would have been hassling him to get the call traced or something, and Blair just couldn't bear to think of the drama it would cause for him at the bullpen. Best not to mention it at all.) So Blair spent the evening trying to wheedle the reason out of his room mate. It wasn't until he'd gone to empty the trash that things became clear. 

Bouncing into the loft he had confronted his partner with the remains of a smashed Dictaphone. The look of guilt that crossed Jim's face confirmed his suspicions and he waggled a finger at him. 

"Jim Ellison - when were you going to tell me?" Jim's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Grinning wickedly, Blair decided to let his friend off the hook. "No biggie, man. I've got a backup. And I know how easy it is to drop one of these, though, this one looks like you dropped it from the roof! So it's Ok, but you 'are' going to replace it." 

Jim had nodded mutely, letting the relief play across his face. Thinking he had gotten to the bottom of Jim's odd behavior, Blair had settled down to enjoy another quite night, just him and his sentinel. 

* * *

Yep, one weird day. Now the job was over. No more making slurping noises on his fingers. No more trying to imagine what going down on another guy felt like, or sliding something designed for car maintenance up his neither region. No more flattery from people he had never met on his 'technique'. No more Chihuahua guy. No more guys phoning him up and using funny voices or trying to disguise their voice. 

The guy who used the bad Irish accent had been a hoot, the one that muffled his voice with a hanky had been kind of sad. At least the one that used a synthesizer had been brief. Then synthesizer guy had phoned the office. Brrr. Scary. Luckily, the guy hadn't phoned again. Marsha had told him not to worry, synthesers were easy to come by, and a lot of clients used them for privacy reasons. And it was possible the person who phoned him at the office wasn't even the one who phoned the sex line, just someone else with the same synthesizer, getting a wrong number. Not entirely convinced, Blair had let the whole thing go. 

Now, to book a cruise for Naomi. He'd never done anything like this, and spent hours checking out holiday packages, phoning friends for recommendations, searching the Internet. He was so pre-occupied that he never noticed Jim's growing unease. 

* * *

It had been almost a week since that last, disastrous, phone call. And Jim was fighting the Need again. He wanted to hear his partners voice talking of sex and lust. Just to listen as Blair said the words, those hot, guilty words. 

He'd tried calling other sex lines, both male and female, but they didn't even get him semi aroused. Only Blair's voice had been pulling the orgasms from him as it weaved through his dreams, night after night. 

Things were getting out of control. The rational part of his mind knew that. The cold truth was that Blair wouldn't respond with hot talk if Jim were to contact him, but with fear. The twisted, needy part of him didn't care. The phone almost seemed to call to him, he'd found himself covering it with things so he couldn't see the tempting speed dial. When he went to use it for other business he found his hands were shaky, the palms sweaty and cold. Oh god, he needed help. So long as Blair never found out, he could cope. So long as his friend never knew what kind of a monster Jim Ellison could be. So long as... 

* * *

"Ellison, Sandburg, my office. Now." Banks shut the door after them and turned to face the duo. He took off his glasses and sighed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. How to break this? "Blair, I'm moving you to a safe house." 

"What?" "Captain..?" 

"There was a break in at Dreamtime Inc, their filing system was cracked, and one file is missing. Guess which one." 

"oh. Damn." 

"Yes." Simon put his glasses back on, then turned to answer a knock at the door. Taking some sheets of paper from Rafe, he thanked him before re-shut the door. As he scanned the printouts his face stilled, then he looked up into the stony blue eyes of his best detective. "These are the back up files. We'll be investigating every-one on the client list. Until that's done Blair, I want you at the safe house. Go see Rafe, he'll make the arrangements. I've got to talk to Jim for awhile." 

Blair hovered, sensing there was something he wasn't being told. Then he figured Simon was just going to tell his partner not to get psycho over this, just because Blair was involved, so he reluctantly left. 

"Jim." 

"Simon." 

"Why is your name on this list." 

"The same reason every one else's is sir." 

"Does Blair know?" 

"No sir, I disguised my voice using a synthesizer. I would appreciate it if he doesn't find out sir. I have it under control." 

"What 'it' are you talking about?" 

"I...have a 'thing' for Sandburg's voice. At first, it was just curiosity, but then I got hooked. I've got it under control now." 

"I see." Simon did see. In a way, he'd been wondering how Jim's repressed attraction for the younger man would manifest. He just wished it had been in some other way. "You realize I can't let you work this case. And I won't allow you access to the safe house." 

"I wouldn't have needed to break in any where to find out where he lives captain." 

"The first man on the file was found gassed in his car this morning, an apparent suicide." 

"Oh god." 

"Where were you around three am, detective?" 

"At home sir, asleep. Alone." 

"Alone. Jim, if I find you had anything to do with..." 

"We're wasting time, sir. Who's on Blair's security team? Not that idiot Walsh, I hope. I want Rafe and Clancy. Megan can work with me. We'll need to see that list..." 

"Jim, you're off the case!" 

"No Simon - I'm on it. With or without your permission. Some psychopath may be stalking my partner, after offing his rivals. I won't stand by and let that happen. Take my badge, I'll still work the case." 

"You will be one of the 'rivals' he wants to off, have you thought of that?" 

"Great idea sir. Bring Megan in, we've got to get moving on this." 

Jim moved to the planning desk, jaw set in a stubborn line, brow furrowed in thought. Simon stared at his best detective, then glanced down at the papers still in his hands. At the name Rafe had highlighted in yellow. Simon's heart had felt as if it had stopped beating at the shock of seeing that name on 'that' list. He looked over again at the man busy making plans to catch his friend's stalker. 

/It couldn't be him. Not Jim. Something is going on in that dense head of his, but not plans for murder. He knows Blair would never forgive him that. It couldn't be Jim. Damn./ 

"Megan - get in here!" 

* * *

Jim sat on his couch, watching TV. Every light in the house was switched on, the windows were open, he had the sound turned up on the war program that was showing. He hoped the loft looked open enough. Open enough to make 'him' Blair's stalkers next victim. 

<ring, ring>

"Ellison." 

"Talk to me." It was Blair. He had found out. As Jim had prayed he wouldn't, as he had known he would. And he was using the words that Jim had used to remain an anonymous client, minus synthesizer. 

"I can explain. God, Blair, let me explain." Jim choked on the words, as the room swung around him. Blair had found out, and wanted answers. He couldn't afford to blackout. No matter how much he wanted to. 

"More." Hissed the disembodied wrath of his partner. 

"I don't know where to begin." Jim forced himself to speak, although he felt his lungs couldn't draw enough oxygen. "This is hard - Blair \- can't this wait till we're face to face?" 

"More." Apparently not. 

Jim hadn't been able to tell his partner his feelings before either, although he had tried. God, how he had tried.... 

"Its just, it's your voice. I've always loved your voice. Its brought me back from so many zone outs over the past few years. When you started doing the sex calls, I got curious. Hearing you talk that way, I wanted to know how it felt if you were talking to me. Just listening to you talk to a client wasn't enough. It made me feel like a voyeur. It had to be for me. Just...for me. And it was...I reacted...And then I had to phone again. To get what I wanted. The words...they made me...I wanted...the Need...God damn you Blair, can't this wait? I'm not making sense here!" /Losing control/ his mind railed at him /isn't that what this is all about?/ "Can't this wait until we're face to face?" 

Blair hung up. Jim went cold, could literally feel the warmth drain out of him. What had he just done? /Oh god, Chief, I never meant to.../ There was a knock at the door. He had company. 

* * *

Blair sat on his cot in the safe house. It was in a bare room in a small wooden house with few amenities, and a wide open yard that left nothing for cover should anyone try and sneak up on them. Blair was currently counting the nail heads in the wooden door, trying very hard not to think of anything else. Not the reason he was here, or what he was going to do, or about his current situation, or anything to do with his currently fucked up life. 

Hearing his two baby sitters speculating on why his Jim's name had been on Blair's customer list had torn his guts out. Their guesses at his partner's possible involvement, of why Simon gave strict orders not to give their best detective the safe house address or phone number, it had turned his blood cold. Clancy was sure Jim was guilty of something. Rafe was certain Jim was innocent. 

/Good. That makes two of us...I think./ 

One of his ex-clients was dead. Possibly due to suicide, but his wife (his wife!) was insisting something else. Shit. He didn't need this. He didn't need the guilt, and he sure didn't need Jim's actions playing games with his head. 

That's when he'd phoned Jim, deciding to play the prick's anonymous voice trick back on him. 'Talk to me' he said, then 'more'. He listened to his partners faltering words, his disjointed explanations, then hung up. The anger that had prodded him to make the call died in the silence. 

It was replaced with a weary, headachy irritation. Jim's reasons, what was wrong with that? The guy likes his room mate's voice, so he decides to phone him up anonymously and get his rocks off? And Jim doesn't think he should have talked about this? The man was one messed up puppy, that was for sure. 

And now, what was he, Blair Sandburg, going to do about this mess? What the hell was he going to do. 

* * *

The door to 852 Prospect Road jerked open and Ellison glared down at a man composed largely of an adams apple, and very little else. He held a posy of big flowers, and a bottle of expensive wine. The little man's eyes became twice as large as normal as he gaped up at the detective filling the doorway. 

"My god, you don't look anything like what I expected!" That's as far as he got before Ellison picked him up and slammed him into a wall. 

Sal Gallop was to escape with one black eye, two broken ribs and a busted finger from the exchange that followed. Even then it had taken three detectives, one of which was Captain Banks, to pull the enraged Sentinel off him. 

Later at the hospital Jim became the living lie detector and confirmed, from behind the exam rooms curtain, that while Sal had broken in to steal Blairs file, and hence his address, he knew nothing about any murder. It was beginning to look like suicide after all. Just one of life's unhappy coincidences. One of its little jokes. Life, concluded one James Ellison, was a bitch. 

* * *

"Blair." Rafe called softly from the doorway. The anthropologist sat slumped on one of the room's two cots. His eyes were shadowed. "Blair, they caught him. We can leave now." Rafe hesitated, wondering if he should continue, then moved further into the room. Sometimes things just had to be said. "You can come stay at my house, if you want. I've got a spare bedroom." 

Troubled eyes looked up at him, a naked uncertainty in their depths. Determination firmed the mouth and Blair squared his shoulders. 

"Thanks man, but we've...got things to discuss, Jim and me. I'll be fine." 

/God damn you Jim Ellison, if you hurt this kid any more I'm gonna kick your ass, covert ops training or not.../ 

"It might not be safe. He might not be that stable. I know you've handled Jim like no one else - but this is different. Obsessions get out of hand." 

"I don't think he's obsessed man. At least, not yet anyway." But Blair didn't look all that sure, so Rafe pressed his point. 

"Blair, he's been phoning you, listening to your voice, probably getting off on it." Blair made a small sound of denial, but Rafe continued, "You haven't noticed, but everyone at Major Crimes has. He's been watching you." <stalker...>

"Shit. He ...um. What have they been saying?" 

"The usual. Most people think you two are a couple anyway. There's been speculation. And they believe Jim thinks you've been cheating on him, so he's been watching you like a hawk, to find out who with." 

"Jeezus, don't you guys have some thing better to do with your time? Like, catch criminals or something?" 

"Blair, they were frightened about what would happen when Jim found out who it was." 

"This is real? I mean, this is really real? They think that?" 

"Most of them, yeah. The rumors have always been there, and the way you two touch, the way you look at each other...hell, Conner always ducks up to Jim's room during the card game just to check the closet and see if you two have 'shacked up yet.' And Jim's been so possessive lately. He damn near bit H's head off for crowding you in the hall the other day." 

"Maybe he's just - got a crush." 

"Blair, Jim Ellison doesn't 'just' anything." 

"Yeah, I know." Blair ran a hand back through his hair. "That's why we've gotta talk. He deserves a chance to explain himself. And" he licked dry lips and looked at the young detective from the corner of his eye, trying to judge his reaction, "I've always kinda had a bit of a crush on the guy myself." 

Blair hunched his shoulders, waiting for Rafes response. Shit, he hadn't even confessed that to himself yet, and here he was blabbing it to Rafe. 

/I like Jim Ellison. Maybe more than like. Crap, ok, I love the guy. Oh man. / 

Rafe moved closer and reached to ruffle Sandburg's hair. "We know. We're detectives, remember?" 

Blair turned his head and tried to mock bite his hand for it's impertinence. Rafe smiled, looked like Sandburg was getting over his shock. The guy had more bounce than a rubber ball. 

"You dodn't exactly hide it. You look at Ellison like he was superman." Just a hint of disapproval crept in here, the guys at the bullpen had never liked the way Blair looked at Jim. A fair amount of envy was involved in their feelings on the matter. 

Rafe smiled at the faint flush staining Blair's cheeks. 

"Yeah, well, that ended as soon as I moved into the loft." 

Rafe gave him a disbelieving look, but let it slide. There was something more important they had to discuss. 

"You're going to do this?" 

"Yep." 

"So, you ever been with a guy?" Rafe tried for casual as he sat on the other bed, opposite the grad student. 

"Do I look like I...um, scratch that. Uh, no, I haven't. But I'm flexible." 

"Want some advice?" 

"Oh man, please. You're not gonna start listing lube brands at me, are you?" 

"Lube?..Uh, no. No. Jeeze, Blair." 

"Sorry." 

"No you're not." Rafe grinned at the evil twinkle in Blairs eyes. "My advice is, take it slow." 

"Slow as in?" 

"Date for awhile, hold hands. Go slow." 

"Oh, that kind of advice." Blair pushed a strand of hair behind his ear and cocked his head at the young detective. "So, are you gay?" 

"Me?" 

"You're neat. Neater than Jim even." 

"I'm not gay." 

"You like opera." 

"I'm not gay." 

"You hum show tunes." 

"I'm not gay." 

"Damn. So who do I get to recommend lube brands for me?" 

"Blair, slow." 

"I hear that." 

"Blair!" 

* * *

Blair had Rafe drop him off at the bottom of Prospect road, that way he gave himself plenty of time to chicken out with no one the wiser. As he walked along the path and into their building, thoughts whirled inside his head - old conversations, tribal law, his mothers voice. He felt himself pulled in a dozen directions at once. 

/Ok, Jim is possibly in love. With me. Only it might just be a crush. Or the sentinel/guide thing. Or hormones. Sooo, Jim, in love, with me. Good thing/bad thing? Hmmm. Good thing, if, like, the zillions of things that could go wrong don't happen. If I can crack that stony exterior of his and get him to 'admit' he loves me. Ok, next. Me in love with Jim. Good thing/bad thing? Duh - good thing, so long as Jim doesn't weird out on me, start treating me like a girl or shit like that. Not that he would. Nope. Maybe if he treats me like Conner? Which brings me to the next question. The gay thing. Good thing/bad thing?/ 

Blair's lips were becoming numb, and his fingers tingled. The damn climb was making him short of breath. 

/I'm gay. Jim is gay. We are gay, together. Naomi, I'm gay. Professor Stoddard, I'm gay. Simon, I'm gay./ 

Black starbursts began appearing before his eyes as he staggered towards the door of 852 Prospect. 

/Jim, I'm gay. Jim, you're gay./ 

"Jim, I need a paper bag..." 

Jim appeared at the door like magic, and directed him towards the couch. Blair's breathing was coming in short gasps now, he felt dizzy and nauseous. Jim rubbed the small of his back as he pressed a paper bag to his friend's mouth. 

"Breath Sandburg. In, out. It's ok, I'm here, nothings going to happen. Deep breaths, that's it. You're ok. Everything's going to be fine." Jim kept up the soothing words until his partners breathing evened out, then he just sat, keeping contact with his hands. Blair eventually took a deep breath and removed the bag. 

"Wow, it's been awhile." 

"Six months and ten days exactly Chief." 

"How'd you know that?" 

"I got the paper bag then, too." 

"Oh, yeah." 

They sat in the silence of the loft together, recovering their equilibrium. Blair got his back first, as usual. He hit Jim on the upper arm. 

"What's the big idea man, scaring the crap outta me like that? I nearly gave up the whole phone job thing over it! All that work would have been for nothing, no present for Naomi, and it upset Marsha as well! You shit!" he hit Jim again, for good measure. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"That's it? You said that on the phone already, guy. And you said we'd talk about this, face to face. Well, here we are....I don't hear a lot of explaining going on." Blair crossed his arms and glared while Jim surreptitiously rubbed at his abused arm. "I'm waiting Jim." 

"Like I said, things got a little out of hand. At first, when I was just curious, I phoned up using a disguised voice. Then, when I realized I was going to do it again, I borrowed the synthesizer and your Dictaphone." 

"Yeah - what happened with that?" 

"I destroyed it after I phoned you at the office." 

"Ah. Why?" 

"I was afraid I'd use it again, and you'd find out. I can't afford to lose you Sandburg. I need you. I think I might love you." The Sentinel's voice broke off, his eyes stung with the unshed tears. He kept his gaze set firmly on the floor, willing the Guide not to leave him, not to laugh. He was a middle-aged man, discovering his love for another man for the first time, perhaps 'being' in love for the first time. And he was vulnerable. Blair had to harden his heart quickly. 

/Oh no, Ellison. You don't get off so easy./ Blair's nostrils flared as he deliberately thought of how scared he had been after the phone call. True, he had played it down to Marsha, but the call to his office had unnerved him. He'd had nightmares. Come to think of it, today at the safe house hadn't been a picnic, either. All those 'what ifs' running around in his head. 

"So you snuck about behind my back, used my voice to get your rocks off, then scared the hell out of me! What's not to love about that?" 

"There's more." Jim's voice was grave as he explained about the telephone stalker he had helped convict years ago, and his fear that he, Jim Ellison, might have the same motives. To terrify, to control, to gain power over. Jim's shame grew as he revealed the dark thoughts that had shadowed his soul these last weeks. His hands grew white knuckled as he clenched them, fighting for control. 

/Oh, swell. Time to calm down./ Which was a shame really, Blair'd wanted to have a good dig at Jim for scaring him. Oh well, there was always later. After all, needling Jim into admitting his guilt and dealing with it was what being a Guide was all about. Well, part of it was, anyway. But then, so was healing his hurts, reassuring his doubts and...loving him. 

"Ok, maybe you did want to terrify me. Or," he reached out and turned his friend's head until they locked eyes together, "maybe you wanted to get caught. Maybe subconsciously you wanted me to know, to figure out it was you, and to act on that. Fear based responses man. You've got em. Deal with it." 

Jim simply stared at him, his face more open than Blair could ever remember it being before. He so wanted to believe Blair, but his own insecurities held him back. Huffing a little Blair dropped back further into the couch. He scratched for awhile at the base of one thumb, then brought it up to gnaw on the skin. 

"So, we gonna do this?" he mumbled. 

"Do what?" 

Blair reached over and tapped him on the forehead. 

"The relationship thing. You paying attention in there?" 

"Are you sure that's a good idea Sandburg? I'm not exactly working on stable ground here. Things could get messy. You might get...hurt." 

"Big surprise. I thought that was one of the things you risked in a long term relationship." 

<sigh> "Is it?" 

"You'll have to tell me, you're the one who was married. This will be my first shot at it." Blairs own insecurities raised their heads, but Jim reached out and gently touched the back of his hand to Blair's knee. He smiled shyly and Blair smiled back. 

They sat and grinned at each other for awhile, letting the events of the day sink in. Eventually Jim moved closer and looked deep into his partners eyes. 

"So Chief. You want to go out with me?" 

"Thought you'd never ask." Blair laughed, his eyes twinkling. 

"I thought you'd never accept." 

"You're slow on the uptake man." Blair reached over and traced a finger over Jim's troubled brow. The big man relaxed, the gentle touch seeming to leach all the tension out of him. "I've been waiting for that offer for awhile now." Blair brought one hand behind Jim's head, and tugged it down until it rested in his lap. Blair's voice dropped lower as he began stroking his Sentinel, soothing and comforting him. "Some detective you are." he whispered. 

"Mmmm, that feels so good Chief." 

"I minored in Pampering Lovers 101." The younger man grinned. "This isn't going to be so hard, you know. We have all the living together rules already." 

Jim reached over and captured Blairs unoccupied hand, twinning their fingers. 

"There is one domestic arrangement we have to discuss." 

"Hmm?" Blair was fascinated by how much Jim's hair felt like soft fur. He could run his fingers through it for hours. 

"I'd like to change where you sleep. I'd like you in my bed, Chief." 

"Now that, that would be moving to fast." Blair ran his hand down to his partners shoulder and caressed it reassuringly. "I've been advised to take things slow." 

Jim turned his head to squint up at him, brow furrowing in a frown. 

"Who by?" 

"Rafe." 

"I always knew he was gay." Jim muttered darkly, "He hums show tunes under his breath." 

Blair laughed and resumed patting his Sentinels hair. After at least two seconds of resisting, Jim relaxed back into the soft caresses. 

"He says he's not, but he could still be in the closet." 

"Are we Chief? In the closet?" Blair shrugged, they would have to think about that one closely. 

"The guys must think I'm a grade A prick by now." Jim grimaced as he remembered the look Simon had given him earlier that day. 

"Well, you are." Blair said affectionately, raking Jim's hair into spikes. Jim pinched his knee, and Blair yelped. "Hey! ...oh...that's better...you're good at that." 

"I'm trying to seduce you here. Is it working?" 

"Keep that up man, and you will..." 

"Keeping it up was my plan, Darwin." 

<gulp> "oh. Ok." 

"Blair?" 

"Uh, it's ok, it's ok. I was just a little...surprised." 

"Going slow might be a good thing after all. I'm sorry I spooked you Chief." Jim rolled back into a sitting position and looked worriedly into his friends eyes. Blair reached out to smooth a calming hand over his shoulder, and before they knew it they had pulled each other in for a killer hug. 

Jim felt Blair's breath, warm and reassuring in his ear, the man's strong arms around his body. Deep in the darker part of his mind something savage stirred. It spoke of claiming, of rings to bind, and vows to chain. It spoke of power and possession. It howled to take its mate. But Jim Ellison was a man in love. The voice could be ignored, or even, and he smiled at the thought, even shared with his lover. There was nothing he couldn't share with Blair Sandburg now. Not even his demons. 

'Oh My.' 

* * *

End


End file.
